"Can I ta'es d'at for ya Sirs?" Martina asked in a hard cockney accent.
"Lord child, you're a sight. You can make a plain black maid's uniform look sexy but it's too tight in the chest!" Molly exclaimed as she tried to slip a finger between the middle button of Martina's dress and her bra. "I'm going to have to let this out before opening night."
"It's not me fault Miss, I swears to ya." Martina replied then giggled. Molly motioned with her hand and Martina took the dress off so Molly could make adjustments. Martina stood there in her underwear watching while she practiced her dialect. She ran through her list of words to be practiced but she'd done some research on the internet and decided to tackle some words that she wouldn't be saying on stage as well.
"Lord, I wish I was young, to have tits like that again." Molly said as she finished her adjustments and handed the dress back over. Martina slipped it over her head then started buttoning up. "Don't button the top two buttons until I make the adjustments. Bring the dress with you tomorrow." Molly ordered.
"Gore! I bloody well need some room 'ere woman. Yur cuttin me circ'lation orf." Martina said and giggled again. She'd have to look circulation up, she didn't know that one. She glanced down the front of her dress. The black cloth was simplicity itself, thin and cinched at the waist with a single row of buttons from neck to waist. "Dey didn't spend so much on da help now dids dey?" She giggled again.
Molly rolled her eyes but Martina was having the time of her life. She'd transformed a small bit part in an Agatha Christie play into four weeks of fun. "Did you know that some actors stay in character the whole time they're filming movies?"
"Wha? Blood weirdos?" Martina shot back.
"Johnny Depp?" Molly asked and Martina closed her mouth. Johnny could be as weird as he wanted to be. All over her. She giggled. "I swear, you've got to be high on something. Now get out of here." Molly made some notes while Martina changed back into her regular street clothes.
"I want to take the costume home and wear it while I rehearse." Martina said, giving up the Cockney accent. Molly thought about it with a stern look on her face but just when Martina thought she'd say no Molly smiled and nodded.
"Sure Hon, just remember to keep those two top buttons undone or you'll snap them right off." Martina clapped her hands then stuffed the dress and lace hat into her bag. She waved goodbye and walked out of the dressing room to chaos. Everyone was moving quickly, getting ready for the big opening next weekend.
Martina reached up and pulled the tie from her ponytail. Her black hair fell free and she ran her fingers through it. She waved to Dave, the cute Lighting Manager and he waved back.
Martina had been a vivacious cheerleader in High School, popular with the girls and sought after by the guys but she'd graduated and gotten a job as a receptionist with a big time insurance firm and her life had slowed. She had consoled herself with movies as the dates dried up and her friends moved off to college, jobs or marriage. That's when she'd made a discovery. She loved acting.
So now she was playing a maid in an Agatha Christie play for the county drama company. Despite her youth, she was only 19, the company had welcomed her with open arms and a generous helping of free acting advice.
She left the theater and felt the humidity hit her like a spongy wall. She looked up at the sky but there was none, it had been completely blocked out by a menacing dark cloud bank. She cursed her luck, she hadn't brought a coat and she didn't have an umbrella. Why was it going to rain?
She lived just five miles down the street and only had to make two turns to get home. She was physically fit and didn't see the need to take a car such a short distance if she could use a bike instead but this was one of those examples of driving being the smarter if unhealthy choice.
She climbed on her bike, put her bag in the holder then started peddling. Lightning began flashing almost immediately. "Aw 'ells Gov'na. Yur gonna pours on me, ain'cha?" She used her Cockney accent and the sky complied.
A few drops began to fall and she raced as fast as she could, the downward angle of the road helping push her along as she sped down the street. The rain drops began thicker, started falling faster until it rained so hard Martina couldn't see the sidewalk anymore. Lightning flashed so brightly in her eyes she was blinded, a clap of thunder followed immediately, so loudly that she couldn't hear herself scream.
This was nuts. There was no way she was going to get home in this. Her hair was plastered to her face, pushing water into her eyes as if the storm needed any help. The water was cold and she was starting to freeze. She had no choice but to get out of the storm though she was in a residential area, there were no stores to take cover in.
She'd have to go to Uncle Bob's house. He lived two blocks away. He'd be home, it was Wednesday so it was poker night. He'd let her ride the storm out. She got back on her bike and made best possible speed for his house, the rain falling so hard that by the time she stopped on his driveway her clothes were weighing her down. She grabbed her bag and ran for the front door. She was so drenched she had to keep her mouth open so she could breathe through it and her hair was an unmanageable wreck.
She knocked on the door, harder than she meant to but it got Uncle Bob to the door. He took one look at her and stepped out of the way so she could rush inside. "My God girl, you're drowning. Don't stop there! You're soaking my floor. Run for the bathroom and get those clothes off, you'll find towels in the cabinet across from the shower, use as many as you need to."
She did as he instructed, running through the living room where three other men were staring at her incredulously. All of them had beers, were smoking cigarettes or cigars and the television was on. She made it to the bathroom and shut the door. She was still dripping wet so she grabbed two towels and stepped into the shower tub.
She'd made it. She looked down to see water running in little rivulets into the drain. She knew she'd have to clean up the destruction from the front door to the bathroom but she didn't mind, Uncle Bob had saved her. She stripped off her clothing then ran a towel over her body. She was so soaked her underwear was saturated.
She might have been brave enough to run from the bathroom to the laundry room so she could dry her clothing but she couldn't do it naked, not with a bunch of guys in the only room between the bathroom and laundry. She tried to dry her hair out and wondered what she was going to do. She couldn't hide in the bathroom, the guys were drinking beer, they'd need to come in here eventually.
The uniform was in her bag, the bag was leather, she stepped out of the tub and opened her bag. Sure enough, the bag was soaked but the contents were barely damp. She took her wallet out and set it aside to keep it safe then pulled the dress out. She pulled it on then buttoned up, leaving the top two buttons undone as instructed.
